


O Christmas tree

by fromthedeskoftheraven



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, Thorin is a Softie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8881693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthedeskoftheraven/pseuds/fromthedeskoftheraven
Summary: Snuggles with Thorin by the Christmas tree.





	

“And what exactly does ‘the perfect tree’ look like?”

Thorin lowered the heavy axe to rest on the ground, leaning on its long handle as he glanced over one of the many small clearings in the evergreen forest that cloaked Erebor’s foothills.

“Not too tall, or too small…not sparse or lopsided,” you shrugged, handing him a skin of water. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

“Did you not have your fill of sleeping in the wilderness on the quest, that you wish for a tree in the bedchamber?” he asked wryly, a half-grin lurking in his beard while he took a long drink.

“I’d think a tree in the bedroom is a small price to pay for having me in your bed,” you teased, “and if I can force down mashed earthbread roots for the Yule feast, you can suffer a Christmas tree.”

Thorin sobered, reaching with one arm to draw you close, pressing his forehead to yours as he asked in a low voice, “you do not regret staying?”

“With the love of my life? Never,” you promised, adding gently, “and eventually, I hope you’ll stop waiting for me to change my mind.”

He nodded, sheepish, though his eyes were still clouded. “You’ve given up all of your traditions, everything you knew – your entire world – to be here with me. It is only natural that you might one day miss your old life.”

“Thorin, my world was gray and lonely, an empty apartment and a job I hated,” you smiled, cupping his cheek with your palm and stroking your fingers through his beard when he leaned into your touch. “Middle Earth gave me hope and happiness and love I’d never dared to dream of, and there’s nowhere I’d rather spend the rest of my life than right here with you and with our friends…earthbread roots and all.”

His face brightened along with the pale winter sun, and he weaved his fingers into your hair to capture you in a breathtaking kiss before shouldering the axe once again and taking your hand in his with a more carefree smile.

“Let’s find you your tree.”

* * *

The dip of the mattress behind you gently jostled you awake, and a strong arm encircled your waist to let you nestle against Thorin’s body as he returned to bed, the warmth of his bare chest radiating over your back and his low chuckle rumbling as you instinctively pressed the cold soles of your feet to the tops of his broad, warm ones.

Your blinking eyes were met with a blur of sparkles as the Christmas tree came into focus, lit candles twinkling among its branches to highlight the wooden ornaments that Bofur and Bifur had generously taken to carving for its adornment in their spare moments. A fire blazed cheerily on the hearth, and you smiled and snuggled closer still to Thorin, your heart warmed by his wish that you should greet the morning with this festive sight.

“Have I told you that I love you?” you murmured drowsily.

Amusement tinged his voice as he pressed his lips to the soft skin behind your ear, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “Not today.”

“Well, I do,” you smiled, trailing your fingers over the veins that stood in relief on his muscular forearm. “I love you to distraction, Thorin Oakenshield, and always will.”

His embrace tightened with the stream of words that poured fervently into your ears, words that needed no translation anymore, and you turned over to face him, smoothing his dark, sleep-tousled hair away from his face to gaze into blue eyes that glittered with reflected light.

“I love you,” he whispered, feathering his lips over your cheekbone to your mouth, where he began a slow, sensual exploration that kindled a restless warmth in your body, entwining your limbs with his and leaving you lightheaded when he parted from you with a dazzling smile.

“Our first Christmas,” you sighed contentedly.

“Our first Yule,” he corrected, his grin turning mischievous.

“Admit it, my traditions aren’t so bad,” you pressed him, giggling.

“No, they are not,” he conceded, and languidly rolled to hold himself above you, the soft curtain of his hair falling over your shoulders and his welcome weight pressing you more deeply into the thick fur pelt that covered the mattress as you drew him down into your arms. “And as long as I have breath, you shall always have a Christmas tree.”


End file.
